


Of Beauty and Birth, of Doubt and Worth

by Discet



Category: A Little Lily Princess (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, a bit of angst ahead, havn't felt this insprired in a while, hope people enjoy this as much as I did writing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8941738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Discet/pseuds/Discet
Summary: It has been four years since Sara and her companion Becky have escaped from the Bastille. Sara has made good on all of her claims, and the two have been inseparable for years. However in the last few months Sara has distanced herself from Becky, and Becky has started to doubt if she has any place at her side. If perhaps, she is weighing her down by being a constant reminder of the worst time in her life.





	1. Shadows in the Parlor

I sat in the plush cushiony… oh Sara had some special name for it but ‘s jist a stool. I sat still as the maid behind me carefully brushed my hair with care. I was never going to get used to attention like this. It was embarrassin.

“Could you sit up straighter miss? It’s a little hard” a tepid voice asked from behind me.

I sat up straight feeling a mortified little shock “sorry miss” I said and ‘eard a little chuckle.

“No need to call me ‘Miss’, miss.” said the woman who went back to brushing my ‘air.

I resisted the natural urge to nod in agreement an’ jist mumbled back a response. Turns out I couldn’t even be ‘elpped right. My eyes looked around the room and I still couldn’t feel like it wasn’t all a dream. A comfortable bed with enough blankets to make me feel warm in winter, even without the smoldering hearth. Little bits and fineries like table sheets and figurines. All bought for her by her princess, for no other reason than a momentary fascination with them.

_“Oh mi- I mean Sara, you don’t need to buy that for me”_

_“Becky you never ask for things. So I need to jump on anything that catches your fancy. Besides wouldn’t you like to have something to remember our trip by?”_

I reached up and held the little charm of silver around my neck. We had found it from a little jewelry shop in North Western France. Out by some old rocks that had been there for thousands of years. Sara had bought it and said that it was cheap for the smile it had put on my face.

A warmth filled me as my maid… imagine that, my maid, finished with my ‘air and stood back. “There you go all ready for the outing” she said and smiled in the reflection of the mirror. I looked into the mirror. At the frills and bright colored that covered ‘er body. She felt like charlatan in these clothes. A fraud who was going to be discovered any day now. Yet she never woke up from this dream, from this life she had stumbled into.

“T-thank you Shay,” I said over my shoulder and she curtsied as fine as any lady. “It looks great” I twiddled over the little charm around my neck, curved into a charming pattern Sara had called _Celtic_.

“Is there anything else you need miss?”

I shook my head “N-no Shay you have done more than enough.”

The maid curtsied and walked to the door, when she opened it she gasped then quickly stepped aside, “Miss Sara good morning.”

I turned around in a bit of a start, every bit of self confidence I had managed to build up slipping away like money through an opium addicts fingers. I stood up from my seat like the missus of the house was going to yell at me to quit my lazin’ about and get to work again.

Sara came walking through the door with a smile for the maid “Good morning Shay”

“Is there anything I can do for you this morning?”

“No, but if you could look in on our preparations for our trip today I would appreciate it.”

“Of course miss.” Shay bowed and walked out.

Shay passed through the door to allow the maid out and turned to me. I held my breath, the soft morning light cascaded through the window it poured over Sara and she looked breathtaking, if when they first met Sara had looked like a beautiful princess, then in the years since she had grown into an angel. The once short hair now cascaded down her’ back in soft curls and even in the practical day dress for walking about the countryside she looked more beautiful than any lady she had ever seen.

“Becky! Good morning!” jist like every morning Sara greeted her warmly and my heart felt swollen with happiness. Had I really been so lonely three years ago? But even as she greeted her I could see Sara seemed to be holding herself back. It's been something that I’ve noticed in the last few months. Usually she would follow up the greeting by running and hugging me. And sometimes even a… a kiss. Now though she stood politely a short distance away. Perhaps it was jist a part of growing up, becoming mature and such.

“Good morning Sara”

“Are you ready for breakfast? The cook, Jenny, found some strawberries at the market yesterday.” I thought about the rich tasting sweet berries, one of the many wonders that she had become acquainted with in the last few years. A surprised look seemed to come to Sara’s bright green eyes and then she chuckled. She fished out her lady’s handkerchief and dabbed it against the corner of my mouth “I see you're excited,” mortified I realized that I had been drooling over the mere thought of the strawberries. I pulled away feeling my face burn up, I barely resisted the urge to wipe away the drool on my sleeve and grabbed my own handkerchief from the table to wipe it away myself. I looked back to Sara, fearing some kind of disappointment, or a mocking smile. But Sara jist smiled, waiting patiently, folding her own handkerchief. “So are you ready?”

Not trusting my own voice I jist nodded and we headed out of the room.

Walking down the hall I couldn’t help but feel… inadequate. It had been three years and I hadn’t grown all that much since we met. The doctor said that it was probably because she hadn’t eaten enough growing up, so she probably wasn’t going to grow much taller, jist older. Sara on the other hand had really grown into her body full and pretty like a Lady should be.

_“If one of us are ever in trouble or need help we should tell the other okay?”_

I thought about the last few months, how little we’ve hugged or kissed. When she had first said that she loved me in the Bastille, I hadn’t quite fully appreciated what she had meant. But it hadn’t taken long. After a day of shopping for new clothes and as we warmed ourselves next to a warm fire in Rom Dos’s living room, she ‘ad snuggled in next to me. Then while as I gabbed on about some dumb thing, she leaned in and kissed me.

She dozed off in front of the fire jist leaning against me, but I couldn’t stop my heart from poundin’ for an ‘our after.

Sara looked over at me and had a little frown on her face “Becky? Is something wrong?”

Why did we stop huggin? An’ cuddlin? An' k-kissin?  

Am I a burdan to you?

Do you still… love me?

“Nothin, jist allergies I think, a bit of the hay fever an’ all” I said forcing a smile.

“Ah alright, well let's go enjoy those strawberries.”


	2. An Outing

The far fields of the countryside stretched out before them green moors with only fluffy white clouds of sheep drifting across the grass sky. In the distance was what was left of a mostly cut down woods. I ‘ad always seen places like this in fancy paintings, an’ in some of Sara’s books. But it was another thing to see it out here. In the workhouse descriptions of the countryside were as fanciful as the fairies and dwarves in Sara’s stories. It was always breathtaking.

“As you can see Miss Crewe if we can manage to set up a new factory here, and soon, we can make a great deal of money.”

I snapped my attention back to the conversation. On the deck of the little country townhouse Sara was talking with another investment opprotunity.

“Yes I can see what your saying, but what about the workers? Will they be taken care of? I do hear such terrible things.”

She ‘ad taken ‘er maths seriously since we left the school, so’s she wouldn’t make the same mistake ‘er father made. She ‘ad taken what he left her an’ grew it. An each year they… she was able to give more and more to the poor back in London.

“Oh yes the nightmares you must have heard miss. I have found that replacing workers is a great deal more work than finding replacements, and as you might imagine, you want reliable workers when working with powder.” said the impeccably dressed gentleman. “Safety is a very high on my list of priorities.”

The children at the steel knew her has mother Christmas, an’ thought of me as her wonderful partner. An’ every few months, after teaching some lessons, Sara would tell everyone one of ‘er stories and always dragged me into it whether I wanted to or not.

Though I did like her making me into heroine last season.

“Do you know I have never fired a gun?” Sara said with a curious wonder.

“Well it isn’t all that proper for a young lady miss, or any lady for that matter.”

“True, I suppose, but my late father was a soldier in India, I always wondered what it might be like to fire one.”

The man got a smart look in his eye and tapped the cigar he was smoking in a tray on the table “Well I do have a old Martini-Henry in the house, I would certainly wouldn't mind giving you some instruction to a… new business partner?”

Sara’s smiled and nodded “Yes, that sounds wonderful.” she left out her right hand and the man took it and shook it.

“Gerald” the man said to the nearby butler “Go get us some targets and my rifle.” he then turned to the maid on the other side of the table, she was pretty and blonde with pale skin. “Jenny, please retrieve us something cool to drink and a umbrella for Ms. Crewe.” both servants nodded and went about their business.

“Would you like to join us Becky?” Sara asked with an inviting smile. I wasn’t sure why she brought me on these outings. I never felt like I provided much in the way of conversation. Sara’s tutoring might ‘ave been ‘elpin a bit but I jist didn’ have the smarts to talk all these ‘igh society folks.

“No, thank you Sara, I’m feeling a bit drowsy, I think I’ll stick around here.” I said. Sara hesitated for a moment but then nodded, standing up as the maid had already returned with two cool looking glasses with a thick layer of condesa- condensey-... water on the outside of the glass, with a sun umbrella in her other hand. Once safely covered Sara an’ the gentlemen started to walk out as the butler went out ahead to set up some empty bottles along the fence.

“Your Miss Crewe is quite the shrewd businesswomen” I stirred out of gazing at ‘er by the voice and looked out to my opposite at the table. It was the companion of the gentlemen, ‘is betrothed if that ring was any clue. “After hearing so many rumors about her I was not disappointed.” I nodded trying to smile genuinely taking refuge in my drink. “Ah a mousy thing aren’t you?” she said in a coaxing manner.

I put my drink down and braced myself speaking carefully “Sorry, I am not all that interesting really.” I said keeping my words high an’ polite.

She placed a dainty finger around her spoon and dipped it into the sugar bowl“Oh don’t worry about that. I have met woman who couldnt stop talking about nothing at all. Having someone appreciate the silence of an afternoon.” she said tapping the sugar into ‘er tea cup an’ stirring in the crystals. “All the same, I am dying of curiosity.”

I looked ‘er oddly “Curiosity about me?” I said in the same measured tone, not able to keep the skepti- skepis… doubt from my voice.

“Oh sure, in part, but mostly about your friend.” she said pointing the spoon out to where the gentlemen was showing Sara the different parts of the gun. “When did you two meet?”

I bit my lip a bit “We met when we were at school.” I said taking refuge in my drink once more. It was true enough as such things went. I ‘ad learned that the truth made most of ‘igh society uncomfortable, if not downright nasty. You’d think I spat in their drinks when I tell em they were eating with a former scullery maid.

“Oh for that long? That must be nice...” she gently laid down her spoon and took up her teacup “Is that when the two of you started…?” she led off. I waited for her to finish but she didn’t seem interested.

“Started… what?”

“You know?”

“I do?” I said taking another drink.

The woman seemed to shy a bit, and a bit of a blush seemed to emerge on her delicate white skin “Well I don’t want to be indelicate,” she said wiggling ‘er eyebrow in a way that wouldn't have been out of place in a far far less delicate place then ‘ere.

I felt the sweet tea go down the wrong chute and I started coughing very impolitely. The woman seemed worried for a moment before I got my handkerchief out to cough into.

“So I’m guessing you catch my meaning then?” she said with a satisfied grin on her face.

“I- we- you think we ‘ave?” I said before stopping a blush coming to my face. I ‘ad let my voice revert back to my old way of speaking.

The woman started laughing a bit and I felt a hot rush of embarrassment but she waved “Oh, don’t look so worried, there’s been all sorts of rumors surrounding you two.”

“But… why that?”

“Well your young Sara doesn’t seem to be connected with any man.” she started off her gaze returning to Sara, who was now holding the rifle and looking it over. “Usually that can be one of a few things. One she could be on the poorer side of thing to be sought out, but if this meeting is any indication she is indeed a lady of great means, so that can’t be it. Another is she could be, well, ugly, and meeting her today I think we can _both_ agree that’s not the case” she said smiling as I forced my gaze away from Sara an’ back to ‘er feeling like I ‘ad been caught somehow. “She could be chaste, religious and the like, but... there is another rumor going around.” she said looking more like a crow finding a meal than someone sharing gossip “That she has a long time companion whose company she… _strongly_ prefers to any man. Then there’s the way you look at her, and sh-”

I raised my hand putting as much muster into my voice as I could “Sorry, you ji-just caught me by surprise.We are not, involved. She is my good friend, but not in _that_ way” I said trying to sound as dismissive of the idea as possible. Sara ‘ad never talked about their relationship publicly, so if it was something she wanted to keep secret, I would ‘ave to do my best. “My family had to leave before I was done with school, Sara was kind and generous enough to let me stay with her” I said primly.

The woman seemed to deflate a bit on her side of the table, “Oh, I see” she said seeming to give up the notion. Lying may not be all that morally righteous, but a degree of pride at the deception swelled inside “Well I suppose that’s good enough for you in that case” I looked at her questioningly “I mean, if someone is willing to buck the covenant of marriage, how likely is she going to be monogamous at all?”

A crack like thunder rippled through the countryside and my sight rippled back to Sara, who was falling backwards end over end, her skirts fluttering around her on the grass

“Oh dear me,” said the woman, hiding a little snicker behind her hand.

The gentleman seemed panicked at the situation he found himself in, seemingly at a lose at what a gentlemen should do when a lady has been forced off her feet by a firearm.

He seemed to settle on taking the weapon back, while the maid placed the tray and umbrella aside to help Sara up herself. She gripped Sara’s hands carefully and slowly leveraged her to sitting upright. As she pulled her to her feet Sara was smiling, her face flushed, she was saying something clever and thanking the maid profusely for her help. The maid seemed to smile back at her.

I felt something… painful in the pit of my stomach, a kind of ‘ot, burning sensation out of no where. I felt my jaw clench shut and my grip tightened around my glass. Who did she think she was, Sara didn’t need her help. She was stronger than any of them knew. She lost everything and still fought on. She can do anything she want.

She doesn’t _need_ you.

Just like she doesn’t need me.

Suddenly I felt a cold chill shock through the core at my being. It was such a hateful thought. I felt tears in the back of my throat, and not composed enough to set it aside.

I slid to feet, my legs feeling weak “I must ask you to excuse me for a moment. A little too much punch.” if the woman was offended by the crass statement I didn’t see it on her face as I turned towards the main building and shuffled inside. With little thought or intent I stumbled around the strange home to find a empty room. I found one unlocked, and dark, only thin streamers of life outlining drawn shades. As I closed the door behind me I placed my back against it. Like the thought that I had outside could be barred from my conscience. But it came all the same, the petty mean spirited ‘ate that ‘ad gotten me beat in the workhouse. In the pit of my stomach was a darkness that I had never had to face.

The possessiveness felt for Sara, the petty jealousy against the maid, that raw painful hatred that had burned in now settling like a weight in my stomach. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to keep my sobs from leaking through the door. I wiped my eyes and peered across the room where a mirror sat reflecting me. Red eyed, skirts creased with spots dust along the brim, the little bit of makeup Shay ‘ad done that morning streaked and ruined by the tears.

“ _I want to do more than protect you. I want to make you a princess._ ”

The lingering memory of Sara’s voice was like an anchor around my ‘eart

I’m sorry Sara. I let you down. I’m no princess, I’m ugly as they come, inside and out...


	3. A Bumpy Journey

“Oh its going to be so beautiful,” Sara said looking out of the bow of the ship. Her eyes bright with imagination, “Becky I can’t wait to show you it all.” Sara said with a bright smile.

I tried to form a smile, but the constant sway and move of the ocean kept it from being genuine. On the few times that we 'ad gone to the continent the trips had been fairly short and calm. The high seas of the Atlantic on the other hand were something else. “I- I’m sure its going to be great Sara” I said, 'olding onto the edge of the boat trying to keep myself centered and failing miserably. I looked down at the water and groaned at the sure knowledge that before the day was out that I would be throwing up again.

Sara knelt down next to me on the deck putting a motherly ‘and on my back, rubbing it in a soothing manner. I let out a pleasant murmur from the back of my throat and for a few moments the problems of the world seemed to fade away with her touch. Then the boat pitch strongly against a wave, and my stomach  attempted to empty itself.

“Oh Becky, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you got so seasick” Sara said holding my hair back as I dry 'eaved over the side of the boat.

“N… ugh… Not your fault Sara. You shouldn’t apologize.” I said waving a 'and at where I thought she was.

“I’m going to see if the crew has a hammock they can set up for you.” Sara said.

I thought briefly of trying to sleep or just rest in a sling swinging back and forth. I looked back skeptically as my stomach churned at the idea.

“No, no really,” Sara started excitedly and I smiled as she got ‘er teaching face one. “If you have a hammock you wont swing as much. Since when your in it you always point down with gravity. So even if the boat is swinging back and forth, the hammock will keep pointing down.” she said and I rested my head on my arm trying to think it over. Then something odd happened. A look of worry seemed to come over Sara. A kind of self consciousness I 'adn’t seen on her before. “I’m sorry, its just an idea” she said twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“No, no I get it, could you ask for me?” I said quickly.

She nodded and looked around before 'urrying off somewhere else. I looked about the deck and saw some of the fancy ladies we had met when we first got on board. They seemed so nice. But now they were very pointedly looking away from me.

After a few minutes Sara came back and helped me to my feet, keeping me on my feet, letting me lean on her. As we got back to my room a few of the sailors were hanging up a 'ammock in the small space. They looked at the bed then back to me then shook their heads before shuffling out. Sara led me to the hammock and helped me into the hammock. I groaned at the initial swaying of getting in, it quickly settled into a peaceful consistency I hadn’t felt since we had gotten on the boat. I opened my eyes and noticed the slowly swaying room and felt my stomach started to churn again.

“No, no don’t open your eyes.” Sara said slipping her slender hands over my eyes and the world receded back into darkness “Just for a while, try and get some rest...” she said in a soothing voice.

Compared to the beds that Sara has spoiled me with, the 'ammock was hardly luxurious, but after two weeks at sea without a single night of real rest, it was more comfortable than I could 'ave imagined. So I slipped into sleep, just enjoying the soft sound of the waves, without the constant motion they caused.  

* * *

Sara looked down at the nested Becky, looking comfortable and peaceful for the first time in weeks. Becky breathed in an out softly her chest raising softly with each breath.

Sara leaned down brushing a few errant strands of hair behind Becky's ear. Then her hand cupped her face her thumb caressing the side of the once scullery maids cheek. As Becky let out a little grumble of sleeplessness, she pulled her hand back. As if being caught in a nobleman's pocket. She looked down at her hand like it had betrayed her in some way. She slowly went about the cabin putting things away and touching things up. There wasn’t much needed, Becky always kept her own room impeccably clean. As she finished and got ready to blow out the lantern she looked one last time at her former fellow prisoner in the Bastille. A kind of forlorn smile appeared on her face “Good night Becky.” she said simply, blew the lantern out, and closed the door quietly behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> turns out I wanted an additional little scene before the next chapter. Should be finished with the next


	4. A Daylight Stroll

I pounded along the beaten dirt road sweat beading in every point on my body. I unscrewed the cap of my canteen and took another life saving gulp of water. Our group plodded through the jungle canopy at a brisk pace. We had a few guides and servants in the group to 'elp us along. 

And despite the heat. Despite feeling like I was walking through a kitchens soup pot. And despite the bugs that seemed quite insistent on sucking at my blood.

Sara 'ad been right, India was a beautiful. It was stunning. Every square inch was so full of color and life. Rich greens in hues I could never imagine. The monkeys and birds and wondrous trees and flowers that were scattered around almost recklessly. Even the sky seemed to be painted into bright blue days and rich orange sunsets. 

Compared to the grey and smoldering streets of London, it was no wonder Sara became who she is, so clever and creative. She grew up where it was like magic was around every corner. And seeing her now, her eyes shining of her remembered childhood was wonderful. 

For days now she 'ad been pointing this or that out and telling me about it. About when plants bloom and animals lived together in the jungle. About all the interesting traditions of the people (although a few of them sounded uncomfortably 'eathen for my comfort at times). Even how the natives 'ad braided a tree's roots together into a working bridge, stronger than any stone one back in Britain. It was like walking through one of her stories down to the magical river that could 'eal anyone. 

It all finally made sense how even in the hum drum of the school she had still been able to think up so many stories and see so much magic in the world. She ‘ad grown up around it. Sara seemed to glow 'ere, it was really like she had come back home. She was showing me every childhood wonder that she 'ad 'eld precious all of these years. We were currently on our way to a waterfall she 'ad visited once with her Papa. 

“It’s incredible Becky, when you come out in the morning, the sun hits it just right that rainbows are everywhere” Sara said from in front of me, climbing carefully over a gnarled tree root. The foliage had gotten over the past few minutes. "Or at least it did when we went there, oh but I'm sure it will happen again!" she said reassuringly and I laughed

“You don’t 'ave to convince me Sara” I said with a little laugh following her “Everything you 'ave shown me has been incredible” Sara beamed with that wonderfully bright smile. 

There was a few moments of silent walking and then Sara spoke up cautiously “I’m really glad you're enjoying yourself Becky...”

“Hmm?” I questioned looking about the plants around us, nearly tripping over something on the ground (again)

“Well after the rough boat trip and… and everything else, I was worried you might not want to stay with me...”

I looked at the her back, that seemed to be tensed as I felt a wave of confusion wash over me. “I… what?”

“I know its silly. But I was really worried, but I’m glad I could share all of this with you-”

“No… I mean I don’t… what do you mean everything...” I was reaching out to her, but then I 'eard something that drew my attention away. A low guttural growl that came from the foliage. In the corner of my eye I caught the light blush of orange in the brush with a dash of intense yellow eyes. Focused just on the girl in front of me. 

“Sara look out!” the next few moments were a blur. The last thing I really remember was stepping forward to shove Sara out in front of me. Then it felt like a carriage had collided with my side as I slammed into a upraised tree root and I felt my arm bend underneath me in a way I was positive it shouldn’t. 

It fell from my awareness as the tiger, and it was a tiger, a big, scary and very heavy tiger, loomed over me and placed one massive paw on my shoulder. I briefly tried to twist away but there was no give under the beasts weight. I clenched my eyes shut. 

Why is it always cats?

I 'eard a the sound of a rifle from around me and distantly I could 'ear the panic’d screams and commotion around me. Although all I could feel or see was the 'eavy body of a tiger collapsed on top of me. I took shallow breaths as the weight settled fully on me and the jungles already claustrophobic heat seemed to tripple. I felt the weight lift as a few of the guards tossed the  tiger from on top of me and took in a deep breath. Everything was kind of a blur but Sara’s face came clear into view in a few moments.

“Becky! Becky! Are you alright?” in her eyes were a cloud a fear I hadn’t seen since our fateful day at the bell tower. I placed one arm OW. Okay not that one, I grimaced and placed my good arm beneath me as I tried to sit up. Her hands glided to my arm as I slowly backed up into the tree I had been nearly pounced into. 

“I… I’m a little light ‘eaded from the excitement but I think I'm alright” I clenched my teeth as Sara touched my, from the look on her face rather mangled, arm. “Well for the most part.” I said trying to work on a smile. 

One of our guides started to look me over. Sara was fussing over me, pulling a few leaves from my hair and wiping away a bit of the dirt. I felt a little embarrassed by the attention, but I would be lying if I wasn’t enjoying it a little. Even as a kind of black fog started to corner my vision.

I 'eard the Indian man examining me gasp and call out to someone else in the train. It was odd, he sounded farther off then he should be. My focus remained on Sara who looked down at my body and gasped. Lazily, it was somehow hard to even move my 'ead, I looked down. Where the waist of my dress should be there were three clean tears in the cotton. There was a dull warning. Like I knew that something was wrong, that I should be in pain, that the spreading red stain should be very important. But I could only think how hard it was going to be for the servant to mend and clean. She was such a nice Indian lady. She didn’t deserve that extra work. 

“Becky...” I looked back to Sara’s face. Her bright lovely green eyes were wide in shock. The last thing I saw before the dark cloud in my eyes covered everything were the building tears in her eyes.

Even now I was causing trouble for her…


	5. 5: Bedside Manner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright wow this was even longer than I thought it would be. Hope everyone enjoys this conclusion, sorry for the delay.

The first thing I felt as I came back was a great deal of pain. I opened my eyes and everything hurt. It hurt so bad. It wasn't liked getting smacked or cutting your knee on cobblestones. It was just a blind almost sourceless pain. Like my brain was screaming at me. I felt ‘ot tears forming in my eyes and I groaned.

There was a alarm around my waking up and I heard some orders given in short order. I tried to sit up but found my body lethargic and ‘eld down besides. A blind panic started to take ‘old and I tried to resist and my eyes flew open. Around the edges of my vision I could see people ‘olding me down and someone doing… something to my stomach. They were all yelling in a language I couldn’t understand. I tried to look down, but suddenly my vision was filled with Sara’s beautiful worried face.

“Becky, I’m here, I’m here. It's okay” ‘er ‘ands caressing the side of my face.

“It ‘urts Sara. It ‘urts so much.” I said feeling the tears streaming down my face now. I bit down on my quivering lip.

“Shh… shh it's okay, I’m here Becky, just focus on me. I’m here we're fixing it, we’ll make you better.”

Someone started to talk to ‘er and I saw a cup forced into ‘er ‘ands, she was nodding and looked back down at me “Becky, you need to drink this alright? It will help with the pain.”

I nodded quickly ready for any relief, She lifted my ‘ead slightly and tasted a bitter kind of burning in my throat I felt a kind of numbness start to settle in and blessedly fuzzy. Everything went black again while Sara whispered soothing words.

* * *

As I came back to consciousness nothing was quite as sharp. The pain was still there but it was distant, far off. I felt a tight pull on my stomach. My arm was bound in a sling and trying to do anything below the shoulder was a sharp reminder that I shouldn’t. Lastly was the familiar but unwelcome feeling of the warm sweat of a fever made even worse by the climate.

Wherever I was it was quieter with only the sound of some odd constant rush from somewhere outside. Like rain but different somehow.

In my one good ‘and I felt a tight grip of anothers. I opened my eyes and looked over. Sara sat next to me in what I guess must be a tent. She was kneeling next to me looking like she was sobbing quietly.

“I remember the last time you held my hand like this...” my voice came out in a awful kind of rasp. My throat felt dry and scratchy, “I don’t think you ‘olding on tight will be enough this time” I said with a withered lopsided grin before settling into an awful coughing fit.

“Becky!” Sara looked at me with a kind of renewed energy. She forced a smile and ‘er palms pressed against ‘er eyes to wipe away any tears that might betray the facade. She briefly redoubled ‘er efforts to ‘old my ‘and, but then ‘er ‘ands scrambled to her side to a urn and poured a glass of water, she spilled a little in ‘aste  “Here take this” she ‘eld the glass to my lips and gently ‘elped me drink in the water. It was a great relief and I nodded my thanks “How do you feel?” she asked putting a protective hand over my own.

I looked down at myself at the sling around my right arm, and the blanket that was covering what ‘ad to be stitches and I looked back at ‘er with a little shrug “My right arm feels a little itchy” Sara let out a choking laugh forcing, ‘owever briefly, a true smile on her face.

“Really Becky, this...” she sobered a bit “this is serious.”

I nodded “What did the doctor say?” I asked weakly, settling back in my ‘bed’.

“I don’t want to worry you…” she said not looking me quite in the eyes.

“Come on Sara, you’ve been teaching me about anatomy. You can test me by seeing ‘ow worried I am…” I smiled but she didn’t seem too cheered.

“... He said that your arm was fractured, badly… It won’t heal for a long time”

I looked down at the sling and nodded at the limitation “Okay. And my stomach?”

Sara seemed to tense for a moment but nodded “He said you were lucky, that the wound was mercifully shallow, they were able to stitch things up… but...” Sara led off.

“But?” I prompted.

“He’s worried about the wound getting infected, they have cleaned it as best they could, but it might become infected and that could get bad.”

I nodded feeling the ‘eavy weight of the situation flow over me. “Alright...” I accepted meekly. Sara stayed silent, looking anxious, “Something wrong Sara?”

“Why?” Sara asked gripping my ‘and tighter. “Why did you do it?”

I shrugged “I… I didn’t really think about it… I saw the tiger, realized it was going to attack you and I jist… moved.”

“You saved my life Becky...” she said quietly. There were tears starting to appear at the corner of Sara’s eyes. “Why do you have to be so brave” she whispered.

I chuckled “Not brave Sara, just none too bright is all. If I was clever li-”

“No!” Sara countered looking like she was shaking “You are clever Becky. You are so bright, why do you always say these things?” Sara looked bothered, even annoyed with me. I ‘adn’t expected that.

“Do... what?”

“You always think so little of yourself. Always putting yourself down. Always praising me. You are so beautiful, and kind, and clever and wonderful but you always seem to hate yourself.” she was nearly convulsing now. “Why...”

I felt a deep pain in my heart, unrelated to the maladies of my body. Sara thought so much of me but it just wasn’t true.

“And now I might lose you too” she whispered painfully, body doubled over in grief.

I slowly wormed my ‘and out of ‘ers and awkwardly tried to reach my one working ‘and around ‘er neck and pull ‘er close. Sara, careful not to jostle me in anyway, came in close, letting me ‘ug ‘er as weakly and awkwardly as I could. “Don’t worry miss. Even if… even if I don’t make it. You will. You survived losing your pa. You survived Miss Minchin’s… you can get by after I’m gone...” I felt a painful clutch as she squeezed tighter. “Maybe you’ll find a new lady or gent. Someone as clever and pretty as you are...” I smiled ‘olding onto ‘er close to me.

Sara was quiet for a minute. At first I thought she might have been cheered. But as it went on longer I was far less confident. Slowly she sat back on ‘er knees with a sad smile on ‘er face “Becky, would you like to hear a story?” I jist smiled back, we both knew I loved ‘earing ‘er stories. Sara took a deep breath and started speaking in the smooth relaxing tones of a master storyteller

* * *

Once there was a young dove in the Emerald forest. She lived in the southern most trees of a vast kingdom. All new growth and beauty. She lived with her father in a beautiful tree, and she was happy. Her father taught her to sing, to read, and to think for herself. She loved him dearly. But one day he told her she must go back to the Old Olk, at the center of the emerald forest, to learn how to be a proper dove of the kingdom.

As with many of his requests, she was more than happy to do so. Still she was worried, scared even. She hadn’t many friends growing up, what if no one liked her? What if she did something to make them hate her? She arrived her feathers carefully dyed in the fanciful style of the south.

Soon it was clear that her fears had been unfounded. She made many friends and acquaintances at the Old Oak. A older swan watched over her and tended to her kindly. Even the old Owl who ran the Old Oak school seemed to think well of her.

And while she missed her father, her new friends started to fill her life with happiness and joy. While she did many things well, the thing she loved most was to sing. She sung to herself and she sung to her friends. She sung old songs she learned and new songs she made, and many of her fellow students loved to listen.

During one of these performances the young dove caught sight of a lonely crow. The Crow worked for the Owl and was timid, always darting in and out of the shadows of the school staying just out of sight. She worked twice as hard as anyone in the school, but she never seemed to look for recognition or praise. She lingered at the edge of the performance as she pretended to continue her work.

It was the first time the Dove had seen her slack off in anyway, and that she did so to listen to her filled her with warmth and pride. Sadly one of the ruder students caught the Crow and shooed her from the performance.

After that, the Dove sought out the Crow and before long she became her friend as well, despite disapproval of the other students. The Dove shared food and song with the Crow, and swelled with happiness, and even if it was unconcious, also vain pride of her generosity…

Rapidly, the Doves next birthday approached and many of her new friends seemed to ever so excited for it. Even the Crow, despite how little she had gave the Dove a gift. The Dove loved the present even on the eve when she would receive so many shining gifts. The sincerity of the gift filled the Dove with a heat and warmth that she had never felt before.

The day of her birthday came, and what began as a day of fun and levity came crashing down around the Dove. There were barries and worms prepared in the most wonderful ways. There were games and entertainment of the highest order. The Owl swept down where the students, the Dove and the Crow were enjoying the day, and behind her clouds of rain and thunder followed. In short words the Owl swept the Dove away from her friends and to her nest.

The Owl told the Dove in cold tones that her father had died.

The news robbed the Dove of her voice as the shock and pain of it washed over her. She could not produce a chirp, not a tweet.

The Owl went onto say that every bauble and trinket would be stripped away and she would become a servant for the rest of her days. But this was all heard as if through a fog so great was her shock.

Before the Dove could even realize her treasures were gone, her swan maid was chased off, and she was thrown into the root heavy burrows at the bottom of the Old Oak tree.

The next week felt like a nightmare to the young Dove. Every kindness she had taken for granted in her years had been stripped away. Food and sleep things she had never thought of before became precious commodities. The work she was straddled with was hard as they were monotonous, each night going to bed sore and waking up worse.

But even these were minor in comparison to the loss of everything else. The Owl who she had once respected if never particularly fond of became a cruel tyrant as she lost her use to her. Many of her ‘friends’ abandoned her as her wealth had been lost, and those who may have been true were too scared of the Owl’s wrath to be seen with the Dove. Other of her classmates even scorned her for her loss, mocking her in her misery.

The night came to the nightmare of the day and the Crow came calling on her in her new damp, dreary, and undecorated burrow in the trees roots. The Dove thought of what the Crow might do. Would she assert her authority as the elder servant and force her to do the worse chores? Would she shove her aside and claim what she wanted from what meager belongings she had left? A cynical seed had blossomed in the Dove as her change in status had changed so many others around her. Why should the Crow be any different? She had no food to feed her. No warm hearth to share. She did not even had no voice to sing to her with? If she had nothing to offer, why should the Crow care for her?

Yet when she looked up, she found the Crow crying and eyes full of sympathy. She hugged the Dove close to her and whispered her condolences. As the warmth filled her the Dove felt awful about the doubt she held about the Crow. And whispered her sobs and sadness to her last… no her only true friend.

In the weeks following, the two grew only closer. The Crow taught her about what she was expected to do and how to best do it. She provided companionship every night and a friendly smile and greeting each morning before their work.

The Dove was becoming full of that strange warmth that still confused her. But any warmth was welcome in the cold burrows beneath the Old Oak.

The more the Dove came to learn of the Crow, the better she thought of her. She learned of the Crows troubles in life. She lost her father, and mother just like the Dove. When the Dove had grown up in kindness and warmth of the south, the Crow had grown up in the cold burrows of the Oak, learning only to work. Despite all her hardship the Crow remained kind and wonderful. The Dove had always thought of herself as kind and good bird, but after her loss she found it much more difficult. Yet the Crow did it despite being worked so hard and treated so poorly. So in addition to being a mentor, and a friend, the Crow became a role model to the Dove.

Eventually, the two had become close enough that the Crow showed the Dove her treasure. It was a marble, a small green marble she had found during her work at the forest’s floor. She had kept it safe for years, and only shared it with the Dove in all that time. It looked like any of the dozens of baubles the Dove had once owned but the brightness in the Crow's eye made it seem like so much more.

However hearing the happy chittering of her servants the Owl swooped down upon the two. She demanded to know which of the two had stolen the marble. The Crow explained how she had come across it, and the Dove could do nothing in the Crow's defense, her voice still lost.

After it was clear the Crow nor the Dove had stolen a thing, the Owl decided to visit a petty cruelty upon the both of them. She told the Crow that she could either keep her treasure or keep the Dove safe from the cold forest floor. The heart of the Dove sank. Crow had treasured that marble for years, would she really give it up for her? And even if she did was she really worth that loss?

After only a moment of hesitation, the Crow gave up the treasure to the Owl, who took it and flew above to throw the bauble into a pile with all her others. As the Owl left, the Crow started to cry. As the Dove comforted her, Crow sobbed about how scared she was to lose her, how little the treasure seemed in comparison.

Even as guilt rose in her, the Dove felt that same strange warmness enveloping her. And for the first time in weeks, and a hushed whisper that even a soft breeze would overpower, she sang a song to the Crow.

The days marched on, and for the first time since her father had died, the Dove did not feel empty. And each time she saw the Crow, that warmth filled her with… something. Something strange, but also something wonderful.

Which is why one day when she did not see the Crow filled her with a subtle alarm. She asked the other servants, but they had not seen her, or did not care enough to answer her at all. She looked frantically around the tree but found no trace of the wonderful friend she treasured.

She searched the other nearby trees, knowing the Owl would be cross with her. Asking others if they had seen the Crow, but the few who did answer her, her feathers so dusty and dirty as hers had become, had not seen the Crow.

Then she heard the panicked caws coming up for the forest floor. The dove dove down and saw a tablet that filled her with dread. Sitting on the tall stump of a fallen tree was the Crow. Holding her wing protectively, curled atop the stump looking scared. No wonder as one of the vicious cats that stalked the forest floor seemed to desperately attempting to reach the defenseless crow.

Fear filled every fiber of the Doves nerves. Without a moment's hesitation she dived to the stump. The Crow initially objected to the danger the Dove had put herself in. But the Dove was adamant that she would not leave her.

The Crow had crashed in a moment of weakness hurting her wing and leg in the process. She resigned herself to be the cats inevitable meal and implored the Dove to escape while she could.

The Dove refused and came up with a plan. In the dark of night, when the cat had fallen asleep, she supported the Crows weight and walked the both of them along the forest floor, in constant fear of the cat waking up in the middle of the night. They both finally made their way back to their burrow. The Crow thanked her, before taking her well needed rest.

The Dove started to feel a cool rage fill her. No one had cared enough to look for the Crow,no one cared enough to welcome her home after her return home. No one seemed to appreciate her like they should. None of them cared for her like she deserved. No one but her loved her like she did.

And the thought shocked her. But finally everything made sense. That warmth that had been feeling all these weeks. So powerful that it filled her day and night with the will to keep going. So wonderful that it made even the chilliest nights warm with a single thought of the beautiful Crow. It was like seeing the sun for the first time, or a shooting star, or a meadow of golden wheat. It was the most wonderful discovery in the world. She loved the Crow. It was so clear to her then that she wondered how she could have ever thought otherwise. And privately, with the adamant will that she would give everything to the Crow that she deserved.

* * *

Sara ‘ad a genuine smile on ‘er face, looking right into my eyes, with the genuine utter sincerity that struck me to my core. My face felt flushed and my ‘eart fluttered in wonder and ‘appiness. But if she felt this way, if she was- is in love with me… then why…

‘What ‘appened next?“ I asked in a ‘oarsed voice.

Sara’s eyes widened, surprised she ‘ad let the silence stretch for that long, and pulled ‘er eyes from mine. “O-oh right...” she cleared her voice and continued. “Soon enough, a knight from the south arrived at the Old Oak. He had served with the Doves father long ago. He saved the Dove from the Owl’s cruel clutches. The Dove approached the Crow and offered her anything her heart desired. The Crow denied any such desire or need. When pressed, she said the only thing she needed was for the Dove to be happy” Sara smiled through a few tears in ‘er mind as ‘er ‘and cupped my face “So the Dove said there was only one thing that could make her happy and kissed the Crow.”

“Can’t say I remember that last part” I said and Sara chuckled.

“A little creative licence”

“And it feels like two birds kissing would be a tad awkward, with the beaks and all” I was rewarded with another chuckle.

“So it's not quite finished yet.” she smiled again.

“So… did they live ‘appily ever after?” I asked fearing the answer. Of ‘ow the Dove’s love  waned. Or ‘ow boring the Crow ‘ad become in the years after. ‘ow little the novelty of the Crow’s quaint mannerisms had worn off. And a part of me ‘oped Sara would just lie and agree that the two birds lived the simple ending that so many stories afforded its ‘eroines.

“... No… not quite” Sara said, a darkness creeping back into her voice. “In the years that followed the… the love birds did everything together. They shared the same nest, they helped the other birds of the forest down on their luck, and the Dove made good on her promise to give the Crow everything she deserved.” she smiled then looked away from Becky’s eyes “But the Dove started to notice something. Whenever she kissed the Crow, or held her hand, or whispered how much she loved her… the Crow would kiss, squeeze, or whisper back. But, she would never start it. She would never kiss the Dove first. She would never seek her hand in the dark first. She would never whisper words of love first.” I felt a slow oncoming horror seep into my skin.”The Dove began to worry that maybe… just maybe that she had forced her feelings on the Crow. That in her bliss she hadn’t considered that maybe the Crow hadn’t felt the same way” she gripped my ‘and tighter as ‘er voice began the tremble “The Dove wanted nothing more than to ask the Crow, but she worried the Crow would simply assure her contentment and love no matter how she really felt. So she came up with a plan...” this was so much worse than anything I had thought of.

“She decided she would start to stop initiating affection. Stop kissing the Crow, stop hugging her for no reason, stop whispering confessions of love… and wait for her to start on her own… after all if the Crow did love her it wouldn’t take long for her to miss their connection would it?” no. “So she stopped and waited for days. Awaiting the Crow to approach her and kiss her…” no, no ”and weeks went by and she hoped that she would cuddle beside her on the couch…” no please god no… “then months went by and she prayed for a whisper of love to come from the Crow… but no whispers came.” tears now flowing down Sara’s face. “So the Dove could only think her worst fears as truth. That the Crow only wanted her to be happy, but didn’t feel the same way. That she would sacrifice her own happiness in life if only to make the Dove happy… and the thought that she would, had been, sacrificing the Crow’s happiness for her own filled the Dove with shame and guilt. So she decided to silently abandon the field...  to support her friend in every way to give her any opportunity one might have… even if that took her away…”

The image of Sara had become faded and distorted as tears filled my vision. I felt a gentle thumb brush away the tears from my cheek. “It’s okay Becky… I got you away from Miss Minchin, I got to be your best friend for years… that's more of a happy ending than I need” she smiled down at me with a smile of resigned acceptance.

I shook my ‘ead from side to side my voice becoming a combination of sobs and regret “I-I thought you had s-stopped loving me, or st-started loving someone else! And I just g-gave up.” I wiped at my eyes ‘arshly. “I-I gave up s-s-so easily when it was really my fault,” I coughed painfully “I took y-you for granted, ‘ow could I-” I coughed again harsher this time and felt the maladies that plagued me redouble. The dull pain in my stomach flared up into a great pain, and the convulsions from my coughing jostled my arm painfully in its sling. Sara’s eyes grew wide with worry as the coughing only got worse. She rapidly shifted away, pouring more of something in a cup she carefully lifted my head and fed me the sweet mixture of foggy relief she had been given before.

* * *

My dreams were blissfully dreamless and long.

* * *

The sound of crashing water was the first thing I ‘eard.

As I woke up, the pain ‘ad once again lessened from what it ‘ad been before. My arm ‘ad been rewrapped from a sling into a variable cocoon of bandages and wrappings. My stomach felt sore, but not a burning pain anymore. The worst pain was a soreness of sleeping too long in one place. It took a few moments to register but my fever ‘ad broken as well.

The tent was mostly empty aside from myself. There was a few of the medicines in a tray near my ‘ead, and a washing basin to my otherside. Other than that it was pretty much empty. I sat up carefully, waiting for any searing pain to sit myself down again. There was a twinge but nothing so bad. I was dressed in nothing else than a night dress that was soaked with sweat that ‘ad once been such a familiar feeling. I slipped from beneath the blanket and put on the pair of sandals at the foot of the bedroll. I stretched my body as best I could, the inability to do so with my arm was just a taste of what I’m sure was going to be a frustrating few months.

I walked out into a clearing and was met with a sight of wondrous beauty. As my neck craned up I could see a great torrent of water flowing freely from the edge of a cliff far above. At their bottom a constant foam and mist at the bottom made a scattering of rainbows in the morning light. Down near the bottom, Sara kneeled next to the river filling a vase with river water.

I felt a craven worry in the core of my ‘eart but I steeled myself and started off towards her.

The rushing water seemed to cover the sound of my approach because she didn’t look to me until I was only a dozen feet away. ‘er eyes rimmed wide with surprise as I walked towards ‘er, “Becky? Becky, what are you doing awake? You shouldn’t be up, you sh-” her voice faltered as I put my one working arm around her waist and looked into her eyes. A space of a breath passed between us before I pressed a kiss against her lips.

She stiffened in my arm for a moment before melting into the kiss with me. The swirling of nervous butterflies in my stomach felt like they left to flutter around me as the warmth and happiness I had missed these past months filled me.

I pressed my tongue tentatively at her lips and Sara welcomed me like a long awaited visitor. The kiss was long and passionate and more than once I had nearly slipped on the slick rocks and send us into the river proper, but fortunately I ‘eld my feet. Finally we broke and as I opened my eyes again I saw the sparkle of my princess’ eyes. I leaned in close to her ear and whispered “I’m sorry I took you for granted Sara. But I will do everything I can to prove to you  that my feelings for you are anything but an act.” I said and felt ‘er arms curl around me.

“Well” Sara said in a lilting tone, “Showing them all that was certainly a good start.”

“Huh?” I asked and curled my ‘ead around, behind me and the tent I had emerged from was the rest of our camp and entourage, as well as at least a few other locals who must have come on there own initiative. Most, if not all of their stares were directed right at the two of us.

An’ ‘ere I was dressed in little more than a nightshirt after tipping the velvet with another girl.

“eep”

Suddenly the steel of confidence that ‘ad carried me to Sara melted away like butter. I buried my face into ‘er shoulder, my face burning ‘otter than a furnace. My legs felt soft and weak under me as I was suddenly clinging onto Sara rather than the other way around.

“Can we go back to the tent?” I squeaked out.

“Wow Becky, we don’t need to move that fast” Sara said in a teasing tone. If I could feel more mortified I could not imagine ‘ow. Sara chuckled and started to lead me back towards the tent on my unsteady legs.

As we walked I kept my eyes focused on the ground, not wanting to meet the eye of the now whispering onlookers. I looked to her right where Sara was gently leading me along, “I love you Dove,” I whispered.

Sara laughed and whispered back “I love you my Crow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we go. End of the Story :)
> 
> I may make a little sequal for Sara and Becky's furthur advancements in their relationship. But this is the end of the main story.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little work of passion after finding so little Little Lily Princess content on the web. Hope a few people find it a fun comfort.


End file.
